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I would enjoy Yoshi’s Island a lot more if I were at all capable of enjoying Yoshi’s Island.

Back when I was Wee Goggle Bob, Christmas was pretty much the only time I ever saw a new videogame (save birthdays, of course, but my birthday is way the hell over in April). I had no disposable income (or… income), but I did have well-meaning parents and grandparents, so every holiday would see at least one game. And, by about 1995, my family had determined that videogames were the only hunks of plastic capable of bringing me joy, so I basically became the boy who got everything he ever wanted. In one Christmas haul (combining gifts from all relatives, I want to be clear that no one member of my family was Scrooge McDuck) I received Chrono Trigger, Donkey Kong Country 2, Earthworm Jim 2, Secret of Evermore, Tetris Attack (I was excited about this… for some reason), and today’s featured title, Yoshi’s Island. It was an embarrassment of riches… only slightly offset by the fact that I had pneumonia and thought I would die at any given moment. Oh, hey, my family took pity on me, just got that. Errm… anyway… once I felt better, I had what was probably the best continuous run of gaming in my life, as playing the best games of 1995 one after another was some manner of nerdvana. Even now, I’m kind of jealous of my past self: can you imagine completing Chrono Trigger, and then immediately moving on to a fresh, new Donkey Kong Country 2? Ah, to imagine there was once such unmitigated joy in my life.

And, to be absolutely clear, all of the Christmas ’95 games I played over and over again. I rescued Princess Whatshername (aka cow). I tossed every hero coin at Cranky Kong. I practically memorized every stupid movie reference in Secret of Evermore. This also means that I scored 100 on every stage in Yoshi’s Island, played through each extra level, and I think I even managed to memorize some of the match card setups for the bonus games. I mean, I didn’t get a Yoshi’s Island tattoo (only Chrono Trigger gained that honor) but I did play the game often enough that the main themes are permanently etched into my mental jukebox. I played Yoshi’s Island a lot, and, even with other great games available, I was inordinately pleased with the insane amount of “stuff to do” on Yoshi’s lil’ island.

But now… Now I look at this…

And all I see is a threat.

Yoshi’s Island is the first “collectathon” Mario game. Despite what Advance remakes may tell you (wait… do people even remember the Advance versions anymore?), Mario was previously all about the running and jumping, and did not give the tiniest flip about hidden Yoshi eggs or eight red coins. And this was right and good! Mario started his rescuing career in the arcades, and “arcade experiences” aren’t about exploring vast virtual worlds, they’re about getting to the end of the stage as quickly as possible so you can impress that one kid with the greasy hair who probably comes from circumstances but gets really excited whenever you make it to the flagpole. That kid isn’t going to wait around and watch for you to score some damn hidden flower thingy!

Actually, perhaps that’s The Illusion of Mario (perfect name for Super Mario RPG 2). There have always been secrets in Mario games. There have always been warp zones, negative zones (hey, an accidental secret is still a secret), hidden mushroom houses, alternate exits, and whatever the hell you had to do to turn a hammer bros into a magical ship o’ coins. The very first stage of Super Mario Bros. hid an invisible 1-up mushroom, and the next level dared you to break the boundaries of the world itself. Mario has always had plenty of bonus skeletons in his closet, from Super Mario Land to Super Mario World.

But Super Mario World 2 changed one important thing: it made the secrets mandatory. Yes, you can complete any given stage in Yoshi’s Island without touching a single red coin or flower, but, whether your explore every nook and cranny or dash like a mad dinosaur, you’re going to be judged at the end of the level. You can beat the game as an unaware lizard, but it also means being scored at a sad, sad 34 on every other stage. That’s not a passing grade! That’s barely even a valid number!

But let’s assume you decide to play along with Yoshi’s Island’s little scoring scheme. Let’s say you realize that Yoshi has the most robust movement scheme ever in a 2-D Mario game (egg tossing, butt stomping, repeated flutter jumping, and that’s all before you get into the vehicle morphs and Super Baby), and that it’s only natural the good people at Nintendo would fill every stage to the brim with stuff for our favorite steed to do. So you want to be the best you can be, and you try in every level. You go for the gold, do your best, but still miss a coin or star here and there. A 97? 99? That’s a pretty great score! Don’t forget to stomp every last piece of dirt! You’re doing swell!

And it doesn’t mean shit.

Yoshi’s Island demands perfection. If you score a flawless 100 on a stage, that’s great! If you “achieve” anything else, sorry, you may as well have not tried at all. And, don’t worry, this isn’t just a matter of looking at a strategy guide and mapping out the best route to red coins, you’ve got a few “random” factors, like…

Flying shyguys (Flyguys?) with red coins that will scroll off the stage forever

Flashing Eggs that may be lost before they’re ever used

The slightest tap from any enemy near a goal post will reduce your star count

Ditto on giant bosses that live to ruin your stars

Invisible Red Switch hidden areas

Auto scrolling stages

Auto scrolling stages and Flyguys

Those goddamn Bandit enemies

Fall victim to any one of these pitfalls, and, sorry, the only solution is suicide (in the game! Don’t do anything rash!) or restarting the level from scratch. And Yoshi’s Island does not feature short levels, oh no, these things are easily three times the length of any given SMB stage. And if you manage to surmount your previous trials and tribulations, but miss somewhere that didn’t trip you up the first time, don’t worry, you still have to repeat the stage, because perfection is mandatory for that all-important 100.

But don’t worry. You don’t have to get a 100. You don’t have to get a 100 at all. All imperfection means is that you’ll play less game, have less fun, and leave portions of Yoshi’s Island completely unfinished. You’re okay with that, right?

Well, I’m not. Shocking but true: I absolutely can’t deal with anything less than perfection in Yoshi’s Island. I know I’ve found these red coins before. I know I’ve beaten Tap Tap without taking a hit. I know I can discover that Poochy ain’t stupid on my own, so why the hell haven’t I gotten a hundred on this damn fuzzy stage yet!? Oh, there was a jump plate hidden in the sky? That makes perfect sense.

So, unlike practically every other Mario game (give or take a few stressful blue coins), I find myself incapable of enjoying Yoshi’s Island. I know, conceptually, that I can avoid the coins. I know I can just boot up that beloved SNES cartridge and play all the levels I want. I know there’s probably a 100% unlocked ROM floating out there somewhere that would alleviate all my woes. I know, somewhere deep down, there’s that enjoyable experience from twenty years ago lurking somewhere around Yoshi’s Island. But now, in my mind, it’s buried beneath a pathological need to acquire flowers and avoid the unshaven. Thus, Yoshi’s Island becomes less “a way to unwind” and more “work”. Work isn’t fun. Work is stressful, and that’s Yoshi’s Island to me.

Yoshi’s Island, the best, most fun game that I absolutely cannot enjoy.

What about the SNES Classic? Oh, that too. Yes, I did use the SNES Classic as the perfect excuse to test Yoshi’s Island. Or the other way around? Something like that.

Number of players: This was the first Super Mario Bros. title to be only one player. Now a Super Mario Bros. game that is multiplayer is a friggen event, and nobody is expecting Mario and Luigi co-op in New Donk City. I blame Yoshi. Again.

Favorite Level: World 2-Special is a rollercoaster ride of red switches that can, incidentally, be completed in all of a minute. It also still manages to contain all the mandatory Yoshi’s Island doodads. This is the game I want to play.

Unsolved Mysteries: Who is Huffin Puffin, the chubby bird in party pants, and what is his deal? Why is it okay to steal his (her?) children? Why are said children natural boomerangs? What is the origin of those pants? Now I’m stressed out all over again!

Just play the gig, man: I already said that this music was burned into my brain, but I’d like to note that, when I’m in “creepy” situations, I naturally whistle the intro to the final Bowser battle. Bum bum bum buuuum bah bump. Bum bum bum buuuuum bah duuu~uump.

Did you know? There are some extremely minor and seemingly superfluous changes to the various icons (oh yeah, I miss having a real map screen, too!) across international versions, but you have to appreciate that they properly colored the SNES buttons purple (as opposed to Super Famicom rainbow) for the US controls button.

Would I play again: Probably not. I acknowledge this game is good. I also acknowledge that I hate playing this good game. Sorry.

Nintendo once produced the best of the best for the arcades, the birthplace of Donkey Kong, Mario, and… Pauline? Er… Let’s go with Luigi. Before the NES opened the gates to the Mushroom Kingdom, you could control Mario and friends for a mere quarter, and dodge barrels and turtles to your heart’s content. The hammer was the most powerful powerup available, and collecting oddly mundane items like umbrellas gradually gave way to Mario’s lifelong addiction to coin collecting.

The days of Nintendo’s arcade dominance quickly gave way to its console dominance, where duck hunting and random robots ruled. Nintendo did, at least, seem to continue producing arcade games through the life and death of the arcade, even repackaging much of the SNES launch into a pay-per-minute arcade cabinet. It may have simply been a marketing tool, but 25¢ was about 800 times cheaper than the alternative cost to ride a dinosaur and devour goombas.

Nintendo may have left the idea of original arcade content in the dust pretty quickly, but you could always see the influence it left on its console output. Mario always had an arcade style “score” through to Yoshi’s Island, and then adopted a sort of “level report card” that, in the end, was much the same thing, just with a few less zeros. Many Nintendo games, from Punch-Out to NES Tetris, featured prominent scores, and even games like Kid Icarus kept track of your “points” for a final “high score” reward. The Legend of Zelda didn’t have a score, but the way it ranked your heart containers to determine sword distribution speaks to how Nintendo was still thinking of points as a measurement as opposed to the “do you have the hookshot?” of later games.

I would say, as a result of no research greater than my own faulty memory (which is already proving to be terrible: where was the score in Super Mario Bros. 2, smart guy?), that the turning point was Donkey Kong Country, the game that changed the idea of a “score” into “percent complete”. No more could you just bop atop a respawning goomba over and over for the highest score available; no, now you must find all the concealed baubles and beads meticulously hidden in every stage (except the stages where they forgot to hide anything). The “collectathon” was born, and the only “high score” available was a flat 100% (give or take a percent or three). Want to know my high score in Super Mario 64? It’s 120 stars, probably the same as many of you. Yes, it’s possible to have individual high score coin counts on certain stages, but once you clear a hundred and earn a star, well, who cares?

And it’s straddling this fine line between “high score” and “completion” that we find Yoshi’s Story. Yoshi’s Story had an uphill climb from it’s very inception, as it had the unenviable task of competing with, and hopefully innovating on, its predecessor Yoshi’s Island, a game so good and timeless that I just had to retype the start of this paragraph as I had been reflexively typing “Yoshi’s Island” instead of “Yoshi’s Story”. Even when it was new, Yoshi’s Island clearly presented itself as another genre defining SNES release, like Super Metroid, Kirby Super Star, or the previously mentioned Donkey Kong Country. Now, Nintendo had to produce its direct sequel on a system that was built for the exact opposite of everything that made Yoshi’s Island memorable. In response to this mounting pressure, Nintendo made the decision to go completely insane.

Let’s be clear here: Yoshi’s Story is a collectathon in the vein of its immediate prequel and Donkey Kong Country. Yoshi’s goal in every level is to collect thirty melons amidst the obstacle course that is every stage. This is not dissimilar from collecting every last red coin in Yoshi’s previous adventure, but with one terrible difference: every metaphorical yellow coin “counts”. Yes, Yoshi’s top goal is to collect thirty melons, but Yoshi will complete the level after collecting thirty of any fruit, whether it be melon, grape, banana, or pepper (which, if you’re unaware, is a fruit, due to the way its seeds work. Related, eggplants are berries for some reason). So Yoshi’s goal is to collect only the best fruit for only the best score, and screw your natural video game honed reflexes to collect every single fruit. This sounds like a neat concept in theory, but in practice, everyone’s first impulse is to grab everything they see, which will lead to a level being completed in, roughly, two minutes. Keep this up through the six available worlds, and Yoshi’s Story can be completed, easily, in less than an hour.

This is Yoshi’s Story’s other great sin: there are 24 stages, but you will only ever see a maximum of six during a single playthrough. This isn’t some challenging “maybe you missed something” scenario, either, you could play each (available) level in Yoshi’s Story perfectly, and you will only be able to see a maximum of a quarter of the game’s content before the credits roll. And, even better, to unlock 75% of those levels, you have to find “hearts” hidden in your immediate level, so it’s entirely possible to even miss the option of playing anything but the same six stages if your searching skills are subpar. Yoshi’s Story is possibly the most punishing game I’ve ever played where I didn’t lose a life.

And you have to remember that this was released during the age that the collectathon and 100% completion was reaching its fever pitch. Okay, yes, we still live in a gaming landscape where “platinuming” or bleeding a game for its every last achievement is the norm, but this was when the advent of memory cards and abundant save batteries meant you could find every dang secret and treasure and your game would remember it, and you could parade that completed cartridge through the streets, forcing peons to bow to your DK Coin collecting glory. Fighting Games, that silly genre where “100%” used to just mean “I beat Bison”, were just starting to get into that repugnant decade or so of having to complete every challenge available just to play with the full roster. And here stands Yoshi’s Story, a game where you might be the best, most completitionist player in history, and all you’ll get as a reward is a playthrough of ¼ of the game and an abstract high score. You don’t even unlock, I don’t know, a winged yoshi for your troubles.

Yoshi’s Story, as many claimed at the time, was a lousy console game. It was aping a gameplay style that, frankly, was as extinct as green raptors. Yoshi’s Story could have worked as the ultimate arcade game, though. Think about it: a dedicated one-player game that changes with every playthrough, allowing good players to take more advanced routes and less skilled, likely child players taking the easy way to an equally valid victory. Modify the health/lives system so you’d need a few more credits to complete the game (it’s a livin’), and Yoshi’s Story could have revitalized the arcades that, at the time, were just fading Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat mausoleums. Hey, Yoshi’s vaguely claymation aesthetics would have looked just right next to Rampage: World Tour. High scores don’t mean a thing when they’re just sitting on your N64 on a single player cart, but they mean the world when everyone for ten square miles can envy the amazing gaming skills of ASS.

Nintendo, next time you get an idea like this, remember the arcade. Do it for ASS. Do it for the ASS in all of us.

FGC #39 Yoshi’s Story

System: N64, much to my lament. Wii barely sneaks in.

Number of Players: One yoshi of a variety of colors.

Favorite Yoshi Color: Hot Pink. Bless you, you apple loving dinosaur.

Number of times I had to check to make sure I’d written “Yoshi’s Story” and not “Yoshi’s Island”: ∞

Highest Score: And the vaguely angry tone of this article has nothing to do with the fact that my save battery apparently crapped out on remembering all the blood, sweat, and tears I put into finding all those melons. On a related note, the best feature on the PS3 is being able to backup PS1 memory cards.

Shy Genocide: Also, like the number one, non-fruit way to score points in this game is to just wreck every Shy Guy you can see. Hop, stomp, toss, or eat, it doesn’t matter, just destroy them all. I really have to question why Shy Guys even go near Yoshi’s Island. At least goombas are soldiers, shy guys are just strolling through Jurassic Park every day of their short lives.

Did you know? Apparently the voice samples created for the Yoshi Tribe for this game were reused for the next decade or so of Yoshi appearances. It’s kind of funny to hear that while playing the game, because, in the intervening seventeen years or so, I’ve heard these same sound effects over and over again, but even remotely similar graphics used basically never. The N64 era was such an evolutionary dead-end for aesthetics.

Would I play again: You know what? This game would also be super ideal for a 3DS Virtual Console or similar rerelease. I would love to play through the game in a spare hour or so while watching a particularly uninteresting movie or waiting in line for an Amiibo, but it’s unlikely I’m firing up the N64 to dominate my television for a run-through. Of course, even then, I’d prefer a “perfect” Yoshi’s Island before Yoshi’s Story, and even that is unlikely, so the answer is probably no.

Donkey Kong Country was the big crazy holiday release for the Super Nintendo. It was a revolution in graphics available on the SNES, or so we were told, and a pretty alright game to play to boot. The console wars were over, Nintendo was the victor, and Donkey Kong carried the victory barrel over the kremling finish line. Somewhere, a Genesis kid wept bitter tears as everyone abandoned the diminutive blue hedgehog for a pair of primates. They had to go fast.

The following year, the war won, Sega floundering and assembling green balls into strange vectors, the Playstation still waiting with baited breath for the cloud of prosperity that would still be two years away, (Super) Nintendo games only had each other to battle. In one holiday season, we saw eternal triumphs like Chrono Trigger clashing for a child’s wallet with the likes of beloved mascot games, like Earthworm Jim 2. And, direct from Nintendo, we had two amazing games: Yoshi’s Island and Donkey Kong Country 2. The rivalry between the two games would echo through the annals of the then fairly fresh internet (popularly known as AOL in those days), and now, decades later, much is still made of the competitors, story book graphics vs. prerendered, indepth gameplay vs. run ‘n jump, “Trojan horse” marketing vs. charming, and I think I’ve even heard some good ol’ East vs. West enmity in there.

But here we stand, two decades later, and are forced to ask ourselves: who won?

First, we look at Donkey Kong Country. Poor, sweet, forgotten Donkey Kong Country. Oh? What’s that you say? Yes, I can hear you, gentle reader, out there in internet land, as your monocle flies from your face and your top hat reaches disagreeable heights, propelled by the steam rising from your ears. Yes, I stand by my statement, your incredulity aside, Donkey Kong Country has been forgotten by gaming at large, and I realized this only while playing the ol’ girl.

Donkey Kong Country is, and I apologize for the heresy you’re about experience, Super Mario Bros. 3. I realize this may be antithetical to every belief you have, but attempt a run of Super Mario Bros. 3 without ever acquiring a super leaf, without ever taking to the skies, and then play Donkey Kong Country. Things will seem oddly familiar, I guarantee. Make no mistake, Super Mario Bros. 3 is one of the greatest platformers ever for a reason (that reason is The Wizard), and DKC cannot be held to its exacting standard, but if the folks at Rare were going to… ape any game in the Nintendo anthology for their creation, they may as well grab one of the best. Much though I’m sure the impulse was there, I’m glad they didn’t choose to introduce the new Donkey Kong in a game emulating, say, Clu-Clu Land. Who would want to play that?

I shouldn’t have to elaborate on this point, and I might be high on pesticides right now, but Donkey Kong Country is, like the finer, old Mario games, a game where you run from left to right, jump on an eclectic mix of antagonistic animals, and then clear the goal before wandering into the next obstacle course. The main theme of Super Mario Bros. 3 is titled “Still Running Around”, and that may as well be the central theme-theme of the game. Donkey (and Diddy, can’t forget the smart one of the stupid apes) are “still running around” through their entire adventure, with occasional breaks for swimming labyrinths (not unlike the more maze-y stages of SMB3) and maybe a minecart or two. Donkey Kong’s animal friends (is that redundant? That always seems to be the phrase used, but they’re all animals, apes, fish, frogs, etc., so aren’t they all just “friends”?) recall Super Mario World’s Yoshi mechanics; so much so that I still expect DK to punch Engarde in the face every time he wants the swordfish to propel forward. Dinosaur abuse is deeply rooted in my psyche. And then every world concludes with a boss battle that is primarily a skirmish of well timed jumps, save a few gimmicks that may include Bowser-baiting or Bee-barreling.

There’s a gameplay mechanic here that exists, but is no more important in Donkey Kong Country than it is in Super Mario Bros. 3, and that’s “collecting”. Yes, there are hidden stages in DKC, and, yes, there are KONG letters in every stage, but neither “collectible” is any more gameplay important than Mario’s Warp Whistles or Flying Coin Ships. Yes, you can score “100%” in DKC the same way you can collect every last coin in SMB3, but neither game ends with a message reminding you that you missed something, or a final boss that is locked away behind some outlandish condition. There are collectibles and “secrets” on Donkey Kong’s island, but they’re fairly insignificant compared to the fun of rolling toward the finale over as many lizards as possible. That banana horde is going to fill up no matter how many exclamation points you weld onto stage names.

And then came Donkey Kong Country 2, and Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island. As mentioned previously, they were released at nearly the same time, and much has been made of their differences through the decades. No one ever seems to take a moment to compare DKC2 to DKC, though, as DKC2 is seemingly universally lauded as the victor in that ape fight.

But we lost something between DKC and DKC2, and it was the same thing that was “lost” when Mario landed on Yoshi’s Island. As I mentioned in my Yoshi Touch & Go article, Yoshi’s Island introduced the “collection” elements to the Mario platformer universe, and that acquisition has never gone away. Whether it be stars or shines or giant coins, every Mario game is now expected to have some collection element, lest gamers just get bored with running from left to right, in 2D space or three, and additional game content is locked behind these collectibles. Some games are more intensive than others, but it’s there in every Mario game since 1995. Similarly, either thanks to some collaboration in the halls of Nintendo, or just a coincidence of parallel development, Donkey Kong Country 2 acquired a significant collectible element, adding DK “hero coins” and making the hidden stages of the previous game a requirement to see the complete ending and battle the true final boss.

This is why I see Donkey Kong Country as forgotten, as the first thing most gamers mention when the DKC series rears its furry head is the “collectathon” elements that have been a staple of the series ever since 1995, DKC2 and DKC3 made the franchise lock significant content behind collecting, and Donkey Kong 64 made the collectathon elements its central focus, to the point that it basically retired the franchise and made the idea of collectibles in a game more of a threat than a feature. This is all absent in Donkey Kong Country, where running and jumping is all that’s required. Go go gorilla!

All of this is just circling back to my original question: Who won, Donkey Kong or Yoshi? As I write this in 2015, both franchises have enjoyed a new renaissance despite a decade or so of inactivity. DK has returned to his roots in Donkey Kong Country Returns and its sequel, and both games have been well received and fun. Yarn Yoshi is on the horizon, and Yoshi’s New Island didn’t cause any noticeable lesions on my body, which is more than I can say for most of the Yoshi franchise since its debut. Assuming Yarn Yoshi is everything it appears to be, both franchises seem to be at about the same plane of “alright”, so we can’t really judge them on that level.

Let’s look at Mario. Mario has had a record number of 2D platforming games released recently, compared to the N64/GBA/NGC era when we never saw Mario just enjoying the simple pleasures of turtle stomping in limited dimensions. There’s even a pretty easy argument to be made that the recent Super Mario Land 3D branch of the franchise, despite being, obviously, 3D, is much more rooted in the 2D Mario games than the likes of Mario 64. And what happens in those games? Mario runs from left to right, often as quickly as possible, and collects along the way, three special star coins.

Huh, that sounds kind of familiar.

Replace those star coins with KONG letters, and you’ve got Donkey Kong Country to a T. Yes, Mario has power-ups and bob-ombs and whatever crazy platform mechanics that are based on how many people in the room you can get to sneeze or whatever Nintendo came up for the latest game, but in the end, it is nearly the exact same gameplay as the original Donkey Kong Country. It might be a plumber hopping on a dinosaur as opposed to an ape utilizing a rhino, but, in the end, it comes out very similar. And that’s what Nintendo is hanging their number one mascot/cash cow on in a series that doesn’t show any signs of stopping.

Your revolution is over, Yoshi. Condolences. The dinosaurs lost.

FGC #9: Donkey Kong Country

System: Super Nintendo

Number of Players: 2, though it’s a much more frustrating experience with two players than one. Have you ever tried it? Whatever you do, don’t try it with a potential mate. I speak from experience. Just play Double Dash with DK and Diddy and claim it’s the same thing.

Donkey Kong or Diddy Kong? Despite Donkey having the clear advantage with his unparalleled ground pound and ability to tackle enemies that laugh off Diddy’s pounces, Diddy is my boy, and his cartwheels are just the bee’s knees. Worst part of Donkey Kong Country Returns is that they saddle you with Donkey and his stupid tie while Diddy is right there!

Been kinda hard on Yoshi lately, ya know? Blame ROB! I swear I like Yoshi’s Island just fine. It’s an excellent game! Its sequels and lasting impact on gaming seems to wither as I pay more attention to it, though.

Did You Know? Rare told me they studied actual real live apes to perfectly animate the Kong’s movements. I learned this from a VHS tape that arrived, unsolicited, at my home. I presume that Nintendo is waiting for the day it is profitable enough to fund time travel expeditions for Miyamoto to study real live Yoshi in their natural habitat.

Would I Play Again? I only re-played through the first three worlds for this article, and I am just fascinated that all this time I have been ignoring this game for its “superior” sequel, DKC2. I am seriously considering heading back to Donkey Kong Country in my nonexistent spare time.

As anyone that “stays current” with video games knows, there is a tremendous push in the industry for the latest and, presumably, greatest. As I type this, Batman: The Latest Battening has just been released, and social media is alight with discussions regarding The Bat’s firepower and framerate. In approximately two weeks, no one will be talking about poor ol’ Bruce Wayne, and we will have moved on to… let’s just check the release schedule here… ah, yes, Onechanbara Z2: Chaos Banana Split Edition. That one sounds like a winner.

In contrast, while video game hardware is pushed just as hard as its software, anyone who buys a video game system within its first six months to a year is considered an “early adopter”, or, as the French put it, “un idiot”. In my memory, there have been exactly two systems with software released in their first year that would last the entirety of the system’s existence: Nintendo Gamecube, exclusively due to Smash Bros Melee, and the Sega Dreamcast, which wins pretty much by a sad kind of default. No matter how box-y future and past systems have been, there has always, always been a dramatic draught of worthwhile games for anyone who buys a system at launch. Best case scenario? Maybe you can hope for five decent games within a system’s first year, and in some N64ish cases, that’s the best you can hope for forever. Buying a system at launch is costly from a monetary and sanity perspective.

So, it’s really no surprise that I do that all the time. It’s the most specific case of senility doctors have ever seen.

The Nintendo DS was the first portable system I was ever able to purchase at launch (and the second portable system I was allowed to own, ever)(If you don’t count the Virtual Boy as portable [because why would you?]}. Suffice it to say, I was excited to play a simultaneously gimped and improved version of Mario 64, and then… well… nothing.

I survey my Nintendo DS collection, and see games that I would never have purchased if not for this seemingly endless drought. Feel the Magic XY/XX? Wow, no. Zookeeper? You may have been at the forefront of a genre, but you’re about as fun as actually cleaning up monkey poop. Mr. Driller Drill Spirits? Actually my first Mr. Driller game, but another one that is somehow gimped on the “new” system. And then we come to today’s choice: Yoshi Touch & Go.

Yoshi Touch & Go had so much potential. This may sound like heresy to some, but Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island is decidedly not my favorite Mario Bros game. In fact, it’s pretty low on the list. This is not to say I don’t enjoy Yoshi’s Island, quite the opposite, it is a very fun game; however, it introduced those “collectathon” elements to 2-D Mario platformers that drive me completely insane. I have that peculiar kind of OCD that compels me to follow the rulings of ludicrous plastic robots, and causes me to collect every last red coin and smiling flower that I can find. And they very concept of stages locked behind 100% completion? Forget about it. My favorite thing to do in Mario games is hold down the B Button and run like hell to the goal post, and Yoshi’s Island stops that impulse cold. Finding secret exits was one thing, but since Yoshi’s Island, I’ve had to scavenge around for red coins, golden coins, and yoshi coins, and something important has been lost in the midst of finding every damn bauble and bead. I can’t help but blame Yoshi’s Island on this development.

But Yoshi Touch & Go had the potential to be the all killer, no filler Yoshi’s Island. After all, it’s the same adorable Yoshi and friends in the same gorgeous coloring book atmosphere, but now there’s no great treasure hunt afoot, just time to just hoof it to the goal and enjoy the simple running, jumping, and egg tossing.

It was supposed to be a thing of beauty.

Instead, here we are, with a game that also started its own kind of horrible genre. Yoshi is running alright, he is, shall we say, endlessly running through nondescript “levels” that feature the same stupid obstacles over and over again in slightly modified configurations. Oh, and levels start with an odd vertical section featuring a falling Baby Mario and even less control available to the player. The pendulum has swung in the other direction, where once there was a game that I lamented because it gave me too much to do, here is a game that contains about five minutes worth of “gameplay”.

I’m not one to assign dollar values to games. To some, a single video game is a tremendous financial burden, to others, its equivalent to a vending machine super ball. Nevertheless, Yoshi Touch & Go is the epitome of the modern “dollar game”. This is a game meant to be played on a phone while waiting in line to get into the local discothèque. This is a game that is meant to be downloaded, not played on a cartridge, and retrieved when you’re waiting for your Xbone to perform its nineteenth system update this week. Yoshi Touch & Go isn’t a bad game, it was just released about a decade before its proper format, for both pricing and play, was invented. Also, it’s a bad game.

There’s a term I love in gaming, and that’s “late to the party”. For those of you that have just beamed here from Alpha Centauri 6, the term refers to playing a video game well after the hype has died down and anyone who cared about the game in the first place has moved on to greener, more bananaful pastures. I propose the term “early to the party” for any of the early adopters out there, as I can think of no finer metaphor. Ever get to the party too early? There’s you. The party host is still getting ready. The temporary host is someone you’d never want to speak to, perhaps the host’s spouse (whom you barely know) or parents (oh God no). The only other guests? The smelly kid, because that kid is always where suck can be found, and the well meaning guest with food, who came early because there was food to bring, but that’s where this particular guest’s social skills end. Who would you like to hang out with? Which will leave the greatest funk upon your soul? And what does it mean that you’re here with them?

Next time a new system gets released, just wait. Stay home, wait until a good amount of time has passed, and then go ahead and join the party. Maybe while you’re waiting, play some Yoshi Touch & Go. Replay the horror.

FGC # 5 Yoshi Touch & Go

System: Nintendo DS

Number of Players: 1. Okay, technically its 2P, but good luck finding another sucker to play this with.

Why Was This Post Delayed: Mainly because it is way too easy to slide into becoming one of those blogs that is always angry at games and ranting against how could some video game designer do this to me and blah blah blah. That’s not for me, there’s too much negativity in this world as is. So, took the time to find an angle to this game that wasn’t just “Wow, this game sucks”.

But this game sucks, right? Oh my, yes.

What’s Your Highest Score? I am not going to admit how much I actually played this game.

Did You Know? IGN said this game, “is one of the most original and unique games created for the system so far…” I want to remind everyone this game was released four months after the release of the DS. There were maybe fifteen other DS games in existence.

Would I Play Again? Decidedly no. It’s currently available for the WiiU, where I can play Bit Trip Runner 2 if I really need to. And you better believe my 3DS cartridge slot has better things to do.